So here it is. I have decided that I really do, at this point, need to come back to Blogger, if only because I need something to save my sanity. This blog was a way to express myself and work out my frustrations. Also, it gave me a chance to embrace my inner crazy that, frankly, is often regarded with horror, irritation, and disbelief in the reality that is my life.
Let's just catch up for a second.
Last year, just a couple of months after Relly had her baby (who is now eighteen months old and a genuine little terror running around), I made the difficult but long overdue decision to transfer from our North Austin location (where I had worked for 7 1/2 years, climbing the ladder from receptionist to counter staff to management) to our South Austin location.
A lot of people think my decision to move was based on my relationship with the new store manager, who had been appointed to the position about nine months prior. Our working relationship was barely functional at its best, but mostly I left every conversation with him wanting to slap him across the face. Mostly I think I made him feel stupid. I like structure, and I have expectations. One time he literally told me to stop working so hard because I literally made everybody else uncomfortable when there was down time and I insisted on doing the things that needed to be done.
Yes. I worked so hard that it made people uncomfortable. By uncomfortable, of course, he meant guilty. I made everybody else feel guilty because I actually wanted to do the job I was being paid to do. And, quite frankly, my work ethic never bothered anybody until he became the store manager. Now, his style may work in a "everybody has a good time all day" sort of way, except that when it gets to crunch time, they find themselves annoyed, stressed, and hampered by the fact that things don't run smoothly when everybody plays and nobody works because nothing gets done.
A lot of other people think I decided to leave because a part time staffer that was hired (with my approval, I admit, but then you never really know how somebody will work until you actually hire them) turned out bad, and our working relationship actually wound up worse than the one with the store manager. This employee was a former barista and car salesman who had the personality of a game show host and the work ethic of a twelve year old princess who never cleaned up after herself in her life. He wanted all of the glory (and commission) of selling products, but wanted nothing to do with actually stocking or maintaining anything. When he became a full time staff member, I nearly died.
I do admit that I was concerned if I stayed any longer I was going to wind up in prison for attempted murder by tuba. Which of those two men would be my victim changed from day to day. Sometimes I thought I would snap and it would just be a double homicide. I started thinking if I just shoved them both into tubas, the world would be a better place.
When I received the (quiet, under the table) offer to transfer locations, I did not jump at the opportunity. In fact, I took a week to decide. I made my list of pros and cons (I have used this list for every major decision in my life). I didn't tell anybody about the offer, didn't ask for any opinions. What I wanted was to decide if I really wanted a transfer, or if 7 1/2 years at the same job was my limit and maybe I was ready to leave.
I decided after two days I wasn't ready to leave. I love the company. I love being such a great, strong part of the community. I love working for a family company. I love music. I love sharing music and being part of creating the next generation of budding musicians. I love that I feel like I'm changing lives. Leaving was, ultimately, not an option.
The reason I chose to leave, contrary to popular belief, was strictly strategic. I had climbed as high as I was going to at my current job. The new store manager was never going to let me go any higher, he made it very plain to me that he didn't want me there (he threw around words like bad teammate and you'll never be able to get another job if I fire you in our last meeting, not that it worked because he literally has no authority to fire anyone) and I wasn't satisfied as a department manager. I wanted, ultimately, not to be in a sales position at all. I hate working at a counter. At the South location, all of the owners have offices. All of the highest company positions are at that location. Ultimately, I wanted to have opportunity to climb the ladder again, and I knew the best chance for advancement was to be right where they could see me.
So I decided to transfer. Leaving behind two of the biggest tool bags I've ever had the displeasure of knowing was simply a perk.
And, as it often turns out, I was right. But that's a story for another day.